Carnival of Discovery
by doctorrosetyler
Summary: The Doctor and Rose stumble upon a force they cannot control- their own imaginations. Sometimes writers are nothing more than their own stories made real. Based on Nightwish's album, Imaginaerum.


Carnival of Discovery

Chapter 1: Taikatalvi

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, the _Imaginaerum_ album is a work of art that belongs to Nightwish, and I do not own the poem "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman.

The sound of the TARDIS landing was drowned out by the howling wind and snow on the cold mountain. Moonlight glinted briefly through the clouds and lit the falling snow like slowly drifting diamonds before descending once more into darkness. The sound of the doors opening was muted.

Rose shivered as she stepped out of the ship, dressed in her jeans and pink hoodie. She had dressed for Boston in the fall. "Doctor! We're going to have to have a talk about your driving!"

An unkempt mop of brown hair poked out of the doors. "Ah. Weeelll, it wasn't me! Perfectly on target, I was. The TARDIS must want us to be here."

"Well, she could've told me. I've gotta go and get my coat." she tried to push past him into the ship, only to be pushed back out into the cold. She was about to protest when his warm coat was wrapped around her shoulders. "Doctor!"

He looked at her innocently, locking the doors behind him and grabbing her hand, leading her out into the snow. "C'mon. You know I won't get cold, superior biology! Let's find out why the old girl landed us here!"

She laughed at his excitement and followed him, running the best she could in the deep snow. The wind whistled against her cheeks and the cool mist of the snow falling on her face made her feel alive. The warmth of the Doctor's coat on her shoulders and his hand in hers pulled her through the frigid air. So what if he had promised her Boston in the fall? This was sure to be more fun!

They ran through the snow for a few more minutes before they spotted a cabin. Rose wouldn't have been able to see it if it weren't for the glow coming through the windows. The wind was starting to pick up and even through the warm coat she began to shiver.

"Oh, Rose, look! A cabin! Let's go see who lives there." The Doctor said excitedly. She wanted to protest, but she was getting rather cold and the TARDIS was a fair distance behind them.

"Ok, fine. But then back to the TARDIS. I want a real coat before we explore more!"

He looked at her, offended. "Janis Joplin gave me that coat."

"And quite lovely it is, Doctor. It's still not warm enough for a blizzard." she said, laughing at his childish pout as he pulled her onto the porch of the small cabin. She could barely hear his knock on the door through the howling of the wind.

She didn't know what she expected when the door opened, really. An older man opened the door, his greying hair shoulder length and his kind smile held a sort of blankness to it that she couldn't decipher. He said nothing at first. The warmth from the cabin, however, washed over her face and she longed to be inside. As if to emphasize this point, the wind gusted against her back, freezing her neck with its icy fingers. The Doctor held her hand still, his fingers gripping her icy ones assuredly, that familiar grin plastered across his face.

"Hello," said the Doctor "might we stop in for a bit? It's a tad chilly out here and my friend is quite cold. Any chance you have some tea?"

The older man smiled widely and nodded, opening the door wider for them to enter. He still said nothing, which Rose found odd but did not seem to phase the Doctor. The inside was very warm. It was a one room cabin, but there was a divider on the far side where Rose assumed the kitchen was.

The fireplace was large and had a roaring fire going. Beside it was an old, wooden writing desk with papers strewn about it. A quill and ink rested beside a page half filled with neat script, though as she stared at the page more words seemed to appear. The older man closed the door gently behind them, sliding the bar into place to keep out the howling wind.

The Doctor began his rambling and began perusing the cabin, asking questions at a million miles a minute, so fast even that Rose began to tune him out. The old man stood kindly in front of the Doctor, nodding politely at his questions without answering any of them. Rose continued her perusal of the cabin. Old oil lamps hung on the walls, where there were hundreds of bound manuscripts on poorly made shelves. She glanced back at the desk again, taking a closer look at the pages strewn about the top. The page in the middle of the desk appeared to be writing itself, though when she tried to read the words they seemed to move about on the page, making it impossible for her to decipher them.

She rejoined the Doctor a moment later, feeling a bit uncomfortable here. Something wasn't quite right. She placed a hand on his arm, halting his barrage of questions. "Doctor, don't you think we should be getting back to the TARDIS now?" He looked at her quizzically.

The old man finally began to speak, in excited, almost desperate tones. "Stop this day and night with me."

They glanced at him in surprise, having assumed he was a mute. The Doctor began to look around the cabin, searching for something that could be threatening the old man, making him afraid.

"Why?" he asked. The old man simply continued in his mysterious tone.

"You shall possess the origin of all poems. The good of the earth and sun." He said simply, looking as though it was obvious. Then, as if he had a sudden idea, he led them to the small cot and motioned for them to sit down.

"You shall no longer take things at second or third hand, nor look through the eyes of the dead." He laughed, almost delighted. "Nor will you feed on the specters in books. You shall not look through my eyes either, nor take things from me."

They glanced at each other, worried. What was wrong with this old man?

"You shall listen to all sides and filter them from yourself." He said this and then disappeared behind the divider.

Rose looked to the Doctor. "What was that all about?"

He shook his head. "Can't be sure. Though he did have a strange look to his eyes, didn't he? Like he's in there, but he's not the only one in there."

"You think he's possessed?" She asked, remembering her brief run-in with Cassandra.

He nodded. "Only one way to find out, really. We should stay a bit longer. He seems afraid. If we can figure out what's behind it, we could help him."

Rose nodded and sat back a bit on the cot. She was beginning to get a bit tired.

The old man came back, a crystal ball on a bronze base in his hands. He handed it to the Doctor, saying excitedly. "All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses, and to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier."

Rose wasn't sure what it was about that statement that unnerved her the most. Perhaps it was the "to die" part. "What're you saying? Why do you want us to stay so badly?" she asked.

He looked at her, his eyes impossibly old and deep yet simultaneously empty. "Exactly the value of one and exactly the value of two, and which is ahead?" he asked. He began to turn off the oil lamps in the room and went to the kitchen area.

The Doctor began to examine the crystal ball he had been given. It was red and swirling on the inside, and when Rose looked closely she could almost see a woman dancing int he scarlet curls. He found a key at the bottom and turned it, it made a ratcheting sound like a wind-up clock. When he released the key, it began to play a small tune in a minor key.

"It's a music box." Rose said softly, beginning to feel very drowsy. The Doctor nodded, pulling her close to him and laying back on the cot. Perhaps a small nap would do them good.

Part of his mind screamed at him to wake up, to be alert and to watch out for trouble. The whole scenario was screaming 'rotten' from the start. But Rose's body was so warm against his and the music so lulling. They were both asleep when the old man came back into the room seconds later.

"Sleep- I and they keep guard all night. Not doubt, not decease shall dare to lay finger upon you, I have embraced you, and henceforth possess you to myself, and when you rise in the morning you will find what I tell you is so." Said the old man as he dissolved into ink and returned to the ink pot on the desk.

The music box continued to play its haunting tune in the Doctor's fading hand.

**A/N: So this is the first of thirteen chapters for this fic. I strongly recommend you listen to "Taikatalvi" by Nightwish to understand the music that inspired it. Every word the old man says is taken directly from the poem "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman, after which the 12th song on the ****_Imaginaerum _****album was named and from which much inspiration was drawn. I am excited to take this journey with you all, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I will :)**

**With love, **

**doctorrosetyler**


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